Neotaoism: Sage-Nature
 

 


 

Introduction

 
In the previous lecture we saw that apparent inconsistencies in the way that some early and respected Daoist texts spoke about the Dao inspired speculations on the ways in which the Dao might be said to exist. These speculations, though interesting in themselves if not always very convincing, are fairly abstruse and difficult to follow, well-justifying the epithet of ‘Dark Learning’ applied to this new style of thought. They are also rather distant from the essential ethical concerns of ancient philosophy. In this lecture we shall see how and to what degree successfully the Neotaoist thinkers attempted to make the ethical claims of the ever more dominant Confucian tradition compatible with their own system.

We recall that the traditional understanding of Taoism was that things naturally develop in a way that is their special way of developing, and that to try to alter their development from the natural course is to make a great mistake. Thus Zhuangzi said:

The duck’s legs are short, but if we try to lengthen them, the duck will feel pain. The crane’s legs are long, but if we try to shorten them, the crane will feel grief. Therefore we are not to amputate what is by nature long, nor to lengthen what is by nature short.[1]

And amongst the things that deform our natural development are the rules of human society.

I think that moralities and etiquette are inhuman. Just think how much distress the man who practises them endures.[2]

So Zhuāngzǐ declares that it is proper not to follow these, just as did Lǎozǐ.

In stark contrast, we saw that Confucian philosophers insisted upon the importance of following the rules of propriety (li) because these make it possible for people to have proper respectful relationships with each other and for society to function smoothly. The rules are important not so much in themselves but because acting according to the rules teaches a certain set of dispositions and attitudes, and those attitudes and dispositions are the virtues that the Confucians value for their social effects.

The Neotaoists were able however to square the circle of these conflicting counsels, to their own satisfaction at least, by reinterpreting the sense of the claim that rules shouldn’t be followed.
 

[1] Zhuāngzǐ 8

[2] Zhuāngzǐ 8

Living According To Nature

 

We earlier saw that it was a fundamental claim of the classical Daoists that it was right to live according to Nature. There are, however, several ways in which the claim can be understood, and it is not clear that the Classical Daoists properly distinguished these interpretations or resolved the inconsistencies that resulted.

1.                   Difficulties with the Classical Interpretations

The classical Daoists had at least two understandings of such a basic proposal: it might mean simply to act according to one’s natural dispositions, or it might mean that there is a certain normative way of behaving that is given by nature. That the second of these interpretations was regarded as a reasonable position was seen when we discussed the claim that

Turning back is how the Way moves.
Weakness is the means the Way employs
.[1]

This text was supposed to show that the ‘Dao’ that was observed to apply to the non-human world could be taken as a guide to the actions of humans. It assumes that if there is a rule that non-human things in the world do follow, then that is a rule that humans in the world should follow. This is not a leap that we would be inclined to make these days.

On the other hand, the first interpretation is the one that supported the radically antinomian approach of the classical Daoists which made Daoism so incompatible with classic Confucianism. It was felt to be a reasonable alternative interpretation (or perhaps it was never properly distinguished from the second,) and it could be used to justify such outbursts as:

                Exterminate the sage, discard the wise,
                And the people will benefit a hundredfold;
                Exterminate benevolence, discard rectitude,
                And the people will again be filial;
                Exterminate ingenuity, discard profit,
                And there will be no more thieves and bandits
.[2]

These two approaches are, of course, not obviously consistent. In fact, they are pretty obviously contradictory. We have seen that the classical Daoists seem to have been aware of the difficulty here, which led them to adopt a somewhat obscurantist approach, and rather than accepting that two inconsistent statements simply cannot be true together, they denied that language could properly express their understandings. This is what lies behind the famous claim that

                The way that can be spoken of
               
Is not the constant way;
               The name that can be named
               
Is not the constant name
.[3]

2.                   Recognising Impermanence

The injunction to ‘live according to Nature’ was also accepted by the Neotaoists – it could hardly be otherwise, being so fundamental a part of the Daoist teachings. The Neotaoists, however, identified in the classical Daoist interpretation of that phrase an assumption or a presupposition that there is a stable Nature according to which one may live. Such an assumption in this place contrasted with the Daoist realisation elsewhere that the world was full of change; indeed it was supposed to be a virtue of the Daoist approach that it accepted the necessity of change. The story, shocking to Zhuangzi’s contemporaries, of that sage’s equanimity on the occasion of his wife’s death was mentioned earlier to illustrate that point.

The Neotaoists took the straightforward observation that things change and made it central to their world view. Everything, they held, was in flux and there is nothing permanent in the world. Change is all there is. One natural consequence of this realisation is that there is a general problem of identity in the world – including our own identity. So Guo Xiang could write

Thus Heaven, Earth, and all things are ever in a state of change. The world is ever renewed, yet it regards itself as old. A boat daily undergoes change, yet it seems to us like the old one.[4] A mountain daily undergoes change, yet it seems to us like the former one. We touch the arm today and lose it. Everything imperceptibly passes away. Therefore the ‘I’ of the past is no longer the ‘I’ of today. We must go with what there is today, for how can we forever cling to what is past?[5]

 3.                   Resolving the Difficulty With a New Interpretation

 A metaphysical claim that any moral agent exists only instantaneously and has no duration in time would, if taken seriously, have very ‘interesting’ consequences for moral theory. Happily, it was left as a mere theoretical curiosity. On the other hand, the recognition that social conditions were also constantly changing became a central part of the new ethics. It is observed that rules that are appropriate and right to follow in one form of society will very probably be inappropriate and wrong to follow in a different society. To take an extreme contrast, we do not find it surprising that the customs of a nomadic society are not those of a highly civilised one. The rules by which the northern barbarian Mongols are pleased to live would not be acceptable to the civilised peoples of the south; and vice versa of course. It follows that when a society changes, as we know that they can do, the rules that were appropriate for the earlier period may become inappropriate for the later period.

The institutions of the former kings were intended to meet the needs of the time. If they are not discarded after the time for them has passed, they become the bogy of the people…[6]

It was then argued – or rather, asserted – that the ‘natural’ response of a person living through a change in society is to adapt their way of life, their mores, and the rules they follow, to the changed circumstances. Any other reaction would be unnatural, forced, artificial, etc. It follows that ‘to live according to nature,’ understood as meaning ‘to do what comes naturally,’ really just means to make that adjustment and to follow new appropriate-to-the-date rules rather than old obsolete ones.
 

[1] Dàodéjīng 40

[2] Dàodéjīng 19

[3] Dàodéjīng 1

[4] Compare with the ship of Theseus.

[5] GX, Chuang-tzu Commentary 3.12

[6] GX, Chuang-tzu Commentary (in Li Shu-ch’ang, ed. 1882-84, Ku-yi Ts’ung-shu, Tokyo, p. 68) (ref. in Fung Yu-lan, 1953, HCP, Princeton U. P.,  v. 2, p. 214.)
All future references will take the form GX:214.

 

The Sage
 

In both Daoism and Confucianism, we admire above all the person who instantiates the philosophy as perfectly as possible and who thus becomes a ‘sage’ (, shèng.) The Neotaoists were likewise concerned to discover the characteristics and qualities of this paragon and whether and how one might achieve such a status.

1.                   The Sage Rejects Imitation

The one thing that we can already be sure of is that the true sage is not one who imitates prior sages. Guo Xiang is very emphatic on this point, making at least three arguments against imitation.

a.          It doesn’t match the current situation

For a start, the true sage cannot be one that does no more than imitate the actions of the past sages – and this for the same reason that imitation of the sages is not a legitimate guide for even non-sages. What those sages did was the result of their sagely adaptation to the circumstances of their time, and those deeds themselves are not necessarily appropriate to other times. One who behaves in ways that are not appropriate to the time and place cannot be a sage.

b.          It won’t achieve sage-hood

Moreover, it is impossible for one to become a sage through determined imitation, just as it is impossible for one to become anything that is not already in one’s nature. A bird cannot aspire to be a fish nor a stone to be a cloud. It is not possible to become a great poet if one has not the talent for it, nor a fine artist likewise; in trying to become a poet or a painter by initiating one, one will only become an imitation of a poet or painter, and one’s own particular talents (and we all do have special gifts) will remain undeveloped. Speaking of several exemplary characters, Guō Xiang says

The endowments of these men were many-sided, for which they caused the whole world to leap to imitate them. But imitation leads to a loss of individuality, and when individuality is lost through (imitation of) something else, that something else becomes the creator of disorder.[1]

c.          It does harm to one’s nature

But perhaps the worst consequence of imitation is the damage that it does to one’s own nature, for the effort to adopt the character of another must have the effect of deforming one’s original character. Such a deformation cannot be pursued – it is at the very least unnatural.

The nature of everything has its limit. If one is led on by what is beyond it, one’s nature will be lost. One should disregard the inducement, and live according to oneself, not according to others. In this way the integrity of one’s nature will be preserved.[2]

2.                   The Sage Rejects Knowledge

We can also be sure that the sage does not become a sage because of any greater knowledge he might have. The Neotaoists agreed with the Classical Daoists that knowledge (by which was meant what we call ‘propositional knowledge’ or ‘knowledge that’) was not the way to the Dao. We have already seen that Zhuangzi was sceptical about the possibility of such knowledge following an argument similar to that of Descartes’s sceptical deconstruction of our certainties. He was also dismissive of the possibility of such knowledge being of any use in following the Dao, preferring to emphasize the idea of practice, and the development of one’s ‘knowledge how’ to follow the Dao.

The Neotaoists, however, emphasized yet a third criticism. According to Guo Xiang again

By knowledge we mean [the activity that attempts] what is beyond [one’s natural ability]. That which is within the sphere [of one’s natural ability] is not called knowledge. By being within the proper sphere we mean acting according to one’s natural ability, attempting nothing that is beyond. If carrying ten thousand ch’un is in accordance with one’s ability, one will not feel the burden as weighty. If discharging ten thousand functions [is in accordance with one’s ability] one will not feel the task as taxing.[3]

Knowledge of the kind that has been criticized is the sort of thing that requires an effort to achieve. It is not a thing that comes to us naturally or as part of our nature. Those who would follow their nature would not pursue knowledge of that sort.

3.                   The Sage Models ziran

Indeed, the true sage acts only according to his own nature. He does not follow ‘institutions and morals’ (, míng jiào:) he enacts or instantiates or models ziran (自然,) literally ‘self-so’ or ‘self-so-ing,’ a Daoist concept which has many uses but which is here used to signify ‘spontaneity’ or ‘naturalness.’ In modelling naturalness the sage is also following the Dao, as Laozi explains

Humanity emulates earth,
earth emulates heaven,
heaven emulates the Way,
the Way emulates Nature.
[4]

A few observations should be made here.

·         First, the text is not specific to sages but describes the situation in general for Humanity or Human Nature. We all model Nature and the Dao.

·         It is, moreover, ambiguous whether the claim is positive or normative: it may be that each of the modellings is what is actually always happening, but it may also be telling us that such modelling is how things ought to be. We have seen this equivocation between the ‘is’ and the ‘ought’ of the Dao before.

·         Furthermore, in this translation, as in many others, ziran is translated as ‘Nature,’ but that may be somewhat misleading in this context. If instead we translate it here as we do elsewhere as naturalness/spontaneity/self-so, we get a different sense entirely.

·         And finally, Wang Bi pointed out that if the Way is empty or nothing, then ziran is also nothing or empty and so is Humanity. Human Nature may be said to model ziran, but that is no more than to say that Human Nature (in its original state) is ‘so-of-itself’ it is modelled upon nothing but is sui generis. In such a state Human Nature is compared to unshaped wood (, pu)

To return now to the question at hand, it is claimed that the sage is not required to make any effort in order to follow the Dao because the sage is simply acting as comes naturally. Recall that actions in accord with one’s nature are said to be effortless, while actions against one’s nature require effort. The Neotaoists insisted that in so doing, the sage could therefore be seen to be following the principle of wu-wei, because that principle, they asserted, only requires that one make no effort and does not require that one ‘do’ nothing. It is, however, very debatable whether this claim can be squared with the plain words of Zz or Lz.

4.                   The Sage Has Good qi

As we remarked above, it is clear that it is not only the sage whose nature emulates ziran: it is all of humanity. But all of humanity is not sage-like, and indeed, it was not always agreed that sage-hood was available to all mankind. Moreover, the argument had been made that it is ‘normal’ to behave naturally, and that that is what would happen if anyone were released from the bonds of ‘institutions and morals.’ We need to wonder, therefore, what it is about the (possible) sage that makes his emulation of ziran a good one and the rest of ours not so good.

One solution might be that proposed by He Yan; that if we regard, as is normal, one’s nature (, xing) to be the product of one’s qi-constitution, and we accept, as is also normal, that variation in qi- constitution is possible, then in the nature of things certain people will have finer and richer qi- constitution than others. One’s capacities (, cai) and talents in all areas are also determined by this qi- constitution. Therefore one could expect that those people with the very finest and richest qi- constitution will be such that their natures will be the most fine and rich and their capacities and talents will be the best and that they will best emulate the Dao. He Yan says that such a person may “merge with the virtue of heaven and earth[5]

Of course, if that is the case then sages are born and not made. Indeed it would be impossible to become a sage no matter how hard one tried unless one already had the appropriate qi; and if one has the appropriate qi then one is fortunate and one’s nature naturally models ziran and Dao. This being the case it is irrational to aspire to sage-hood unless one is already a sage: it is not the sort of thing that is achievable for non-sages. One might just as well aspire to be an attack helicopter. Rather, says He Yan, we may set our sights upon achieving the status of a ‘worthy’ one (, xián,) such as Yan Hui, the ‘disciple’ of Confucius. The difference between the two states is that

Not even to have the desire for the state of not desiring: this is the constant quality of the sage.
To have desire for this state of not desiring: this is the distinguishing quality of the worthy.
[6]

On the other hand, Wang Bi insisted that the sage was like other men and not different in kind, therefore each man could still aspire to being a sage. This is presumably the case even if the qi-constitution were the determinative factor in the successful pursuit of sage-hood, because no-one can know whether they have the necessary qi-constitution except by the results they achieve. In either case one’s qi-constitution doesn’t seem to be a moral quality any more than one’s intelligence, health, height, or physical fitness: it is simply part of one’s being that one has to accept and work with.

5.                   The Sage Masters Himself

The reason that ‘desire’ enters into the characterization above is that it was believed that self-interested desire was an impediment to the proper expression of ziran, because one’s actions would then be distorted by the desire of things which were essentially external to the self. Apart from that essential difficulty, it is also the case that associating one’s contentment with external things which are outside one’s control – and the effort to control those external things – is always liable to failure and will lead to unhappiness. (This is an attitude which we might also recognise from the Epicureans and the Buddhists.) It is much better and safer to make the necessities of one’s life only those things that are within oneself and within one’s control.

Some thought that desires themselves were therefore unnatural and required to be annihilated, but others thought that they were a natural product of the mind and could only be regulated. It was generally agreed, however, that there was a distinction to be made between the desires for necessary things like food and water and the desires for unnecessary things like power and wealth. The former were essentially limited while the latter were unlimited and so the former were much less likely to be damaging to the sage-aspirant than the latter.

The mastery of desires was, however, only one part of a more general mastery that the sage was expected to assert over his inner life. The more extreme positon – championed by He Yan, for example – held that the sage did not have emotions (无情, wu qíng) because the sage was complete and self-sufficient and lacked nothing.[7] Wang Bi, on the other hand, allowed that sages did have emotions but that they were not enthralled by them. He could recommend that emotions be subordinated to reason, as in the case of Meng-sun Ts’ai’s equanimity at the funeral of his mother as reported by Zhuangzi.[8]

6.                   The Sage Makes No Distinctions

One of the tools of reason which could aid the sage-aspirant in the control of his emotions was the belief that there was no justification for becoming specially attached to anything in the world, because there was no such thing as a difference between things in the world. If there are no differences and everything is just the same, then how can we distinguish any one thing as worthy of our special regard or rejection? We looked at the kinds of arguments used to support this point of view in the lectures on The School of Names and on Zhuangzi’s Skepticism. The arguments of Hui Shi of the School of Names were comprehensible as demonstrations that some statements may be true from one point of view and false from another point of view, which suggests that he was arguing, at least partially, for a kind of relativism in propositional knowledge. We can see that Zhuangzi, who was a friend of Hui Shi, made arguments to the same effect for functional knowledge.

The most important of these relativistic claims was that there was no difference between good and bad, which is always a popular doctrine with a certain type of person. Perhaps feeling that it needed more support than its being a logical consequence of a more general claim of universal indistinguishability, Guo Xiang offered the unfortunately familiar argument that

If the right is really absolutely right, in the world there should be none that considers it to be wrong. If the wrong is really absolutely wrong there should be none that considers it to be right. The fact that there are uncertainty between right and wrong, and a confusion in distinctions, shows that the distinctions between right and wrong are due to a partiality of view, and that all things are really in agreement.[9]

If one was able to realise fully the non-existence of distinctions one could become a Perfect Man (至人, zhiren) who has thus become one with the infinite, and capable of infinite happiness. We are each of us capable of some degree of happiness when our desires are met, but our desires are typically limited and bound by identification of a distinct thing in the world that is desired. In short, if one’s happiness is related to the realm in which one seeks happiness, and those realms are limited, then one’s happiness is likewise limited. By contrast, if like the zhiren one makes no distinctions and recognises no limits to the realm in which happiness is sought, then the happiness found will be likewise limitless. Moreover the distinction between oneself and the objects of potential desire is null, so the objects are always achievable. The direction of one’s actions toward such objects in that case is direction by oneself towards objects that are naturally not different from oneself. Such action, determined by oneself is the essence of ziran. The man who lives ‘according to himself but not according to others’ in virtue of his realising that there are no distinctions amongst things, is said to live as the wind and flowing water – fēng -liu ().
 

[1] GX, Chuang-tzu Commentary 4.29

[2] GX, Chuang-tzu Commentary 10

[3] GX, Chuang-tzu Commentary 3

[4] DDJ 25 (Cleary’s tr.)

[5] Commentary on Lun Yu, 14.35 and 16.8

[6] GX, Chuang-tzu Commentary, ‘Introduction’ (quoting a philosopher of the 5th C)

[7] HY, Sanguozhi 28, commentary

[8] Zz 6.75ff

[9] [9] GX, Chuang-tzu Commentary, c. 2